Crossing Cultures

Even though finals are the worst thing ever, my day of writing and research has been made slightly better by my new musical obsession: Chinese Opera.  specifically that of the peking genre.  (You see there are many different types of Chines Opera.  Since the country itself is so vast, the Operatic tradition is very regional, even village dialects come into play when opera is performed.  Although the music is beautiful in a strange, alien way, even native Chinese speakers have little to no success in translation.  i could write a whole other blog post about the extravagance and intricacy of costuming in Chinese Opera.  In addition, casting has an interesting  tradition.  The most revered characters, both male and female always played by men.  Women are only ever allowed on stage to portray old men, usually lesser characters.  This is of a similar origin to that of the Greek and early Elizabethan stage.
Months, maybe years ago, I heard a piece on NPR where an American man living in China fell in love with the art-form and ended up finding his self proclaimed soulmate because of it.  But I digress, m current interest doesn't stem from soulmate searching. In fact, it's a direct result of my wonderful roommate Phoenix.  In earlier posts I have expounded upon the culture shock of living with a 21-year old Chinese student, but now that the shock has worn off and the awkwardness is fading, I can more fully appreciate how awesome Phoenix really is.  She's brilliant, patient, and hilarious.  Three very important qualities in a person.  I think I can finally consider her my Friend, no longer, MyChineseRoommatePhoenix.  I came to this realization slowly, but the seed was planted when Phoenix got back from her TOEFL test, and told me how relieved she was.  The conversation went on for an hour, we talked about everything from boys and relationships past to Peking Chinese Opera.

UGH Finals.

Here I sit. At my desk. In the world's most uncomfortable chair.  Generously provided by the Office of Res Life here at Ohio University.  I don't want to work on any of my final projects.  The weather outside is too beautiful to be stuck indoors, sitting awkwardly in a torture chamber chair writing about stupid shit that doesn't really matter. UGH Finals.

OK! now that my rant is over.  I've been away from the blog world for awhile, and I would like to announce that I will be leaving for Florence, Italy in EIGHT (8) DAYS! WTF! where did the time go?! It seems like last week that I anxiously awaited my interview with the fabulous Prof. Molly Morrison who will be leading this expedition around the Italian countryside and towards Italian language fluency.  I can't wait. I literally CANNOT wait any longer.  The anticipation is killing me.  I've never been a patient person.  I've eaten popsicle slush before because i couldn't wait for them to freeze solidly.

Procrastination at it's finest.

Here I am, sitting in the front room on the top floor of Baker, try my damn-est to be productive.  I have 920174323948320 things to do but sadly I can't seem to muster the motivation to close my stumbleupon tab and get started.  Lucky for me, there is also a constant stream of conversation floating around me.  Each one varied in language, topic, intensity and dynamic.  The chic table of Spanish speaking faculty straight in front of me seems to be content as they sip their tea and chatter endlessly in their beautiful native tongue.  The girl beside me seems to be video chatting, i think with her significant other.  and of course there are another 10 low murmurings that i cannot hear or understand above the mechanical whir and grind of the various machines that create such delicious beverages.  I think I'll leave my whirlwind of productivity for another day, a cute boy in neon green nikes just sat down next to me and i think it's time for me to do some chatting of my own ;)

Blogs Blogs, Blogs (A reflection on the act of blogging and the subculture it has produced

When I was younger I only ever kept a journal when I was REALLY upset.  I got into the occasional habit of recording my angst-iest, most dramatic thoughts and feelings.  I've always considered blogging to be a pretty similar endeavor to journaling.  This doesn't sit well with me because i consider myself to be a relatively private person so the thought of publishing my thoughts on the world-wide web for all to see, read and judge isn't exactly appealing.  Furthermore, I found issue with the entire premise of blogging.  So few people can verbally communicate effectively, a far smaller percentage can communicate effectively via the written word.  This being the case, why are there so many blogs floating around in cyberspace.  Do people actually read this garbage.  Despite my initial distaste for blogging culture, as my own blog expands and i begin to realize the cathartic release of blogging whether it's about deeply rooted personal beliefs or spontaneous observations, the act of blogging has become something that i foresee myself continuing even after this class ends.  With the advent of Facebook and other social media websites, i find that blogging is a deeper more altruistic way of understandings someone's cyber footprint.  I hope that you are all enjoying this small look into my life.

The Secret Life of the American Sorority Girl.

Greetings Culture Writing Peers!
Below, please find my S-Y-N-O-P-S-I-S!

The Secret Life of the American Sorority Girl

Synopsis of Field Notes from Interview with Allison Woods of AOPi

Emily Burns

During my initial interview and friendship experience with Allison, I feel that I have a solid yet obviously “outsider” idea of sorority life and the interpersonal relationships that form between sisters.  In addition to this intimate portrait of sisterhood and support, I also have a rough sketch of some of the more challenging and possibly negative aspects and stereotypes faced by Pan-Hellenic women. 

We also focused on some of the problems faced by young women when they are put into the peculiar, specific situation of sorority-house-living.   The logistical, often financially strained, atmosphere of a sorority house creates tension among sisters that is unpleasant to sort through.  Since Allison occupies an important executive position within the chapter she was able to offer interesting insights to such conflicts.  The unspoken and often unacknowledged system of labeling and judgment that arises from the rushing process and continues throughout the girls’ sorority career was an unexpected contribution to my still developing perception of life as a “sorority girl”.

Living in Chinese

I never realized how different life would have been if I had succeeded in digging all the way to China.  The language barrier alone would have been enough for me to dive right beck into the hole and crawl home as fast as possible. I've come to this realization recently as my two roommates and I have been adjusting to life with a Chinese roommate.  Wei Yingchi, or as we call her Phoenix, is one of the kindest, most courteous people I have ever met.  She has filled our room and our lives with an unexpected yet distinct flavor of cultural respect and understanding.  Perhaps in another Post I'll go into greater detail about the numerous small changes that continue to develop since Phoenix moved in, but my favorite so far is the constant stream of rapid Mandarin Chinese that constantly cascades form her corner desk.  At first we were all rather annoyed with the rapid fire of strange sounds and inflections emanating from the far corner of our common room, but we've begun to adjust.  For me the low din of Phoenix video-chatting with her mother (and other family members) has become a sort of background babble for my everyday doings.  I'm beginning to see the beauty (without an ounce of denotational understanding) in the mercurial, guttural emphasis and the alternating, rythimicly light stroke of articulation in the spoken Chinese word. Every sentence sounds like a line of alien poetry.

And when I can't take the foreign chatter anymore I turn my headphones up too loud and blast my current musical obsession. As I'm writing this, I'm listening to The Frames --> check them out!


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sorry, I tried to post a video but it didn't work, here's the link:

http://youtu.be/CWZjz9PJxiI

Welcome to my silken tent of a blog!

this is my favorite poem of all time. since i was little i've always loved Rober Frost.  My da used to read me American poetry before bed every night and Frost was always my favorite.  I just reccently discovered this poem and decided to  create my blog around it.  so without further adieu-

The Silken Tent

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She is as in a field a silken tent At midday when the sunny summer breeze Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent, So that in guys it gently sways at ease, And its supporting central cedar pole, That is its pinnacle to heavenward And signifies the sureness of the soul, Seems to owe naught to any single cord, But strictly held by none, is loosely bound By countless silken ties of love and thought To every thing on earth the compass round, And only by one's going slightly taut In the capriciousness of summer air Is of the slightlest bondage made aware.

You da man, Robert Frost. Mad Props.